Lent is a tree
without blossom, without leaf,
Barer than blackthorn
in its winter sleep,
All unadorned unlike Christmas
which decrees
The setting-up, the dressing up
of trees,
Lent is a taking down,
A stripping bare,
A starkness after all
Has been withdrawn.
Of surplus and superfluous,
Leaving no hiding-place,
Only an emptiness
Between black branches,
A most precious space
Before the leaf, before the
time of flowers; Lest we should
See only the leaf, the flower,
Lest we should miss the stars.
Jean W. Watt
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